Ari
by pixiedust121
Summary: Retelling of Cinderella. Ari has been cheated out of her title and now lives as a servant in her own home. When a prince comes along. . .
1. Chapter 1

**Ari**

Chapter 1 : Meet Ari

"Ari!"

Ugh! _Again._ How I loath hearing that voice.

"_Ari_!" the voice called again.

Highly aggravated, I hopped off of my bed and headed downstairs to my sister's room. My stepsister, actually. Lucille. The most awful evil that escaped from Pandora's box. The kiss of death. The plague of men, . . .or mine, at least. She's out to make my life miserable. Her and my stepmother, Helga.

I often wonder why, of all the other eligible women in the world, my father chose Helga to marry. I suppose it is because of my mother's death. Although I was six at the time, I remember everything as if it was yesterday.

My mother was without a doubt beautiful: silky blonde hair, brilliant green eyes, the sweetest personality, and an infectious laugh that charmed everyone she met. Most of all, she and my father was madly in love.

Her death greatly affected my father. He withdrew to his bedroom, refusing to come out or eat anything for days. He became gaunt and depressed; his eyes had a hollow expression as if his soul had been sucked out. My father began to treat me differently, as if I was very delicate and would shatter if he was not careful. I guess I was because he felt he did not want to lose my mother twice. I looked almost identical to my mother; I could have easily passed as her younger self, although I had inherited my father's electric blue eyes and soft brown curls.

My mother's funeral was the worst day of my life. Throughout the day, the mood in our manor was sullen. My father became so dejected that he had almost decided against going to the funeral. Oh how I wished he had not gone to the funeral, for my future stepmother had attended it. I remember that she went up to my father at the end of the funeral, when he was glumly starring at my mother's coffin sitting in the hole, waiting to be buried. She patted his back, murmured in his ear, and even went as far as rubbing his hands.

After that day, she came by the manor almost regularly, always bringing gifts and stopping to comfort my father. She made a point to be nice to me in front of him or our servants, playing games with me or reading aloud a story. I recall noticing a weird aspect of her: how she became curt with me when we were alone, how she almost struck me when I accidentally tore her dress, and how her steely black eyes always glared at me when no one was looking. However, as a young and gullible child, I didn't take much notice. She was rarely alone with me and I always figured that she wouldn't stay too long. But I was wrong. Dead wrong. Helga's visit's became longer and longer. The time she did not spend trying to win me over, she spent with my father. She comforted him, beguiled him with her sweet words, and stuck by him, even in moments when he obviously wanted to be left alone.

Eventually, she convinced him to accompany her outside, to the town or into the forest. I never knew what fake words she said to him during their little outings, but months later, he agreed to marry her.

That had to be the second worst day of my life, after the day of my mother's funeral, for along with a malicious stepmother, I received two foul stepsisters: the nasty Lucille, one year my senior, and Greta the idiot, two years younger than I. They, like my stepmother, created a carefully maintained veil of innocence. It was not until my father's death, a few months later, that I was aware of their evil.

My stepmother would have loved to get rid of me for good, but as daughter of a well-loved duke, she dared not, at least not so soon. She took away all my jewelry and fine dresses, allowing me with dresses not an iota less faded and tattered than servant's garb. She starved me so much that I resembled a walking toothpick, but excused my malnutrition as my attempt at being 'fashionably thin'. I rarely left the manor grounds except for the village to buy food; I was not allowed without permission. Helga exempted my behavior as a side effect of losing both parents in such a short time and that she did not want to force me out in public if I did not wish to in fear of upsetting my unstable emotions. When I was ten, Helga announced that I had died of natural causes resulting from my manic depression. The public accepted her explanation; they had believed me to be insane for many years.

Helga forced me to be a servant in my own manor. She kicked me from my room and moved me to a tall unused tower. I admit that particular action is a blessing; the tower, although it had cracked windows, leaking roof, and about a hundred years' worth of stains and dust, was exactly the kind of room I had wished for. The servants of the house, who sympathized me, helped me clean up the room and make it livable. It is now my sanctuary, my only area of comfort. The room was small, but snug. It only contained my bed, a dresser, and a mirror, but it had four evenly spaced windows that I could open and allow in the refreshing breezes.

"Ari!" The voice called testily.

I deliberately slowed my pace. By the time I reached Lucille's room, she had grown hoarse with yelling.

"What took you so long?" she snapped.

"I was outside and did not hear you." I replied.

"I demand to take a bath." barked Lucille.

'Than take one."

"I want that you fetch me hot water from the kitchen and fill my tub with it."

"Do I look like your personal servant?"

"Of course! You are completely under my control." Lucille said. "I demand that you do it."

"Why me?"

"Because you have to earn you keep?"

"Technically, isn't all the money you're living on my father's? It's my inheritance. So really you ought to be earning your keep."

"Shut up and get me my water!" Lucille yelled at me, tossing her hairbrush.

"Fine." I grumbled, dodging the brush, and left before Lucille could call Helga. It took me half an hour to carry all the water to Lucille's bathroom. When I was finished, she order me to pick rose petals from the garden to make her sweet smelling.

She probably only wants rose petals to cover up her stink, I thought to my self as I left the manor with a basket. In the garden, I met Togalo, our old gardener and one of my close friends.

"Togalo. Hi." I said brightly, forgetting my fight with Lucille.

Togalo looked up from his pruning. "Hello Ari. What brings you to the garden?"

"Must I have a reason to visit my old friend?" I pretended to be insulted. "Actually, Lucille told me to pick rose petals to freshen up her bath." I wrinkled my nose with distaste.

"Not even my prettiest roses will sweeten her personality." Togalo remarked. "But if you must, pick from the inconspicuous ones in the corner."

"I wish I had something to put in, like a plant that'll make her itch or something." I said.

"That's an evil thought." Togalo commented.

"She's an evil person." I retorted.

"True enough. Tell you what. I have a plant that'll make her skin red and blotchy for days."

"Really!" I said, excited.

"Yes. I found it growing in the forest beside that big willow tree. I was going to destroy it, but now I think I've found a much better use. It's the small red plant with round leaves. Just drop the leaves in the water with the roses. Be careful not to touch the leaves, though."

"I will. Thanks Togalo." I cried skipping off to pick the plant.

"No problem, Rina." Togalo called after me.

I found the place Togalo was talking about. It composed of a huge, hundred year old willow tree with numerous branches that formed a thick curtain around the trunk and completely concealed the trunk and anything behind the branches. It was my favorite place outside, my secret hideaway. I use to come here everyday, to mourn for my mother and father. I even snuck cushions here to sit on.

It took me a while to locate the plant Togalo described. At last, I found it, a very short plant that consisted of four pinkish reddish leaves stuck to the ground. I picked the plant using my handkerchief and hurried home. I hastily picked the rose petals, but by the time I rushed up to Lucille's room, I was late.

Lucille was annoyed by my tardiness and, convinced that her water had cooled during my trip, she made me empty the tub and fill it once again with water. I poured in the rose petals and added the plant.

The next day, at breakfast, I noticed that Lucille was unusually annoyed and wearing layers of veils and thick makeup. I discovered my answer while eavesdropping outside Lucille's room.

"Ahhh! My skin. My beautiful skin." Lucille screamed. I heard ceramic shattering.

"Lucille dear. Maybe it was something you ate." Helga comforted her. I heard Lucille scream and a moment later, Helga remarked sharply, "watch where you throw that, young lady."

"Mother! How will I go out in public. It's not just my hands, I could cover that with gloves, but my face. My beautiful porcelain skin is not red and blotchy!"

"You'll just have to wear a veil, darling."

I heard more cries of anguish and items thumping against the walls. "The prince, mother. How shall I face the prince in a veil? He shall not see my beauty."

"Dear, you'll just have to avoid the prince until the effects fade."

"Matilda of Elmswood has invited the prince and some ladies over to her manor for lunch tomorrow!"

"You'll just have to skip it."

"SKIP IT!" Lucille shouted angrily. "SKIP IT! How can I possibly skip it! Matilda that vixen. She's had her eye on Prince Derek. How can I leave her there with the prince! I must be there, to remind him where his true heart lies."

I chuckled silently to myself. This was better than I had hoped for. Lucille was crazy about the prince. He's so handsome. He's so rich. He's so in love with me, she constantly bragged.

"Why don't you try makeup, dear."

"Make up doesn't help. I'm wearing makeup right now and the blotches are still visible!"

"Well I don't know, Lucille. I guess you're going to have to figure something out."

Lucille ended up skipping the party. All afternoon I heard screams and crashes coming from her room. When she finally emerged, puffing and red, I was forced to clean up her room. Everything in the room was broken. All her powder and makeup were spilled on the floor. All the tables and chairs were upturned. One chair even had a broken leg. Her vanity mirror was cracked. All her vases were broken and their flowers littered the floor. The books were swept from their shelves and the blankets were pulled off of her bed. All the chests were open and their contents scattered about the room.

As I was cleaning up, Togalo walked by. "Had another one of her tantrums, did she?"

I nodded. "She couldn't go to some party because she had blotches on her face."

Togalo laughed. "Serves her right. Anyway, I found some itching weeds at the northwest corner of the meadow. It dries well and can be ground into powder." Togalo winked and left.

The next day, once I had finished my morning chores, I hurried to the meadow to pick the itching plants. The meadow was beautiful. It was created by deforestation so it lay adjacent to the woods. Flowers invaded the meadow and mingled with the sweet smelling grasses. I couldn't resist plucking an orange blossom and placing it in my hair.

I quickly found the tall itching weeds and picked all the ugly green leaves. As I tucked away my handkerchief full of leaves, a huge gust of wind blew the orange blossom from my hair.

Across the meadow, a young man that I had not previously noticed left the cover of the forest and dashed across the meadow to catch my flower. He caught the blossom and made his way towards me.

"Is this yours?" He asked.

I nodded, accepting the flower. "Ari."

"I'm Derek." The man said. He looked to be about three years my senior. He had blond hair and sparking green eyes. Judging from his attire, he was rich."I —"Derek cut off as footsteps were heard in the forest. "It was nice meeting you, Ari. It really was. But I've got to go."

Without waiting for my reply, Derek hurried away, dashing to the cover of the trees. A moment later, two soldiers appeared from the forest.

"Where could he be?" One of them said anxiously, scanning the horizon.

"I don't know. I'm positive I saw him running this way." The other answered.

"I don't believe he gave us the slip._ Again._"

"We've been looking for hours. Hey, who's that over there."

The two men headed over to me. "Lass, have you seen the prince? Tall, blonde hair, green eyes."

I shook me head. The men turned back to each other. "Let's just head back. He'll turn up by nightfall. He always does."

I stood still as the men hurried away. Something in their description was familiar. _Of course! _I thought to myself. They were looking for Derek. Did they say he was the prince! I thought as I slowly walked back to the manor, still somewhat stunned by my discovery.

Several days later, I stood in the kitchen washing the dinner dishes with Hanna, the cook. Yvette, the timid maid entered periodically with dirty dishes and Beth, the other maid, was no where to be seen. After all my years of living in this household, I was only acquaintances with the all the servants. With the exception of Togalo, I guess I never clicked with any of them. We say hello, good bye, and maybe light conversation if we're working on the same task, but that's about it. I never see them for social reasons.

It was late at night when I was finally released from my duties. In my tower, as I prepared for bed, I heard clicking on one of my windows. I slid open the window and in hopped a large brown hawk.

"Hank." I greeted as he settled on him headboard and straighten the feathers that had been knocked askew during his entrance. "Haven't seen you all day."

"I've been hunting." The hawk replied. "With all this deforestation and disruption of the forest ecosystem, it's a miracle I'm able to sustain myself here." This hawk, Hank, was my guardian sent to me by my wizard godfather. He was apparently too busy with is experiments and spells to watch me, so he sent his pet hawk to keep an eye on me. Hank came to me on the day my father married Helga. I had been crying under the willow tree when the hawk flew down to me. At first, I was surprised to find a talking hawk; even at my young age I knew speaking birds were uncanny. The hawk turned out to be harmless. He moved into an abandoned alcove behind my room and spent his time inside my room when I was present. The best part was that he was fully housetrained. Accept for a few feathers and maybe a musty smell, he left no signs of his presence.

"There are always the mice in the barn. I'm sure old Togalo would let you." I said. Togalo was the only other being aware of Hank's existence.

"There's no flying room in the barn. Besides, then I have those nasty overweight felines to worry about." Hank replied with disgust.

I chucked. Hank had hated cats every since he stupidly challenged one was a baby and lost all dignity and respect. "Actually, I think the cats are kinda cute." I said.

Hank snorted and muttered furiously under his breath. "I don't expect someone who lives in this room to have any taste." He snapped.

"Well you sleep on a nest of sticks." I retorted.

"My nest has _color_. You have a gray bed, a brown dresser, a gray floor, and a brown blanket." The hawk said, flapping his wing as if pointing.

"Your nest is comprised of brown sticks and brown feathers."

"My nest has red, green, blue, white, shiny; virtually all the colors."

"How?"

"I'm a collector. I collect stuff."

"I want to see your nest sometime."

"You can. It's a dangerous climb, but can be done in daylight. Anyways, I saw you in the meadow. . ."

"You were spying." I accused flatly.

"It's my job." The hawk said nonchalantly. "I feel I must warn you to be careful picking that itching weed. Helga would explode if she knew you possessed it."

"I'll be careful." I assured Hank. "It might come in handy one day."

"I'll leave you to get some rest." The hawk said as he hopped out the window. When he left, I picked up the feathers he left behind and placed them in a box under my bed. Shutting the window, I blew out the candle and settled in my creaking bed, pulling the threadbare covers on top of me. Within minutes, I was asleep.

A/n: First chapter done! Review and tell me if i should finish it. Please.


	2. Cinderella

"Ari!"

I looked up from the morning dishes. Lucille had entered the kitchen. "Ari! There you are." Lucille said. "I want salmon for my dinner party. I'm going to throw one in lieu of the one I missed. I want the good, fresh kind. You are to buy everything on this list." She waved a sheet of paper in my face. "I have counted every penny in this purse." Lucille continued as she shoved a leather bag in my hand. "Be back in time to make dinner." She spun and walked out.

I glared at Lucille's retreating back. The 'good, fresh kind' of salmon could only be found at a fishing village two hours' walk away. I would never be back in time to help cook for the party, which would take hours. And I couldn't possibly carry it all. Swearing at Lucille under my breath, I trotted away to do her bidding.

The morning was cool and refreshing and two hours later, I arrived at the small fishing village. Most of the citizens present were women and children, the men, most, if not all of them fishermen, were already out in their boats. A small cluster of shops lined up along the main street formed the market. Unfortunately, the foods Lucille ordered could not all be found with these minute selections. I would have to stop at the market close to the manor. As the storekeeper wrapped my chosen salmons in paper, I glanced at the sun. It was a perched high in the sky. I would barely have time to walk back, let alone visit the market. That harpy! She knew that the market was too far away. This was just one of her schemes to get me in trouble.

As I accepted my salmons, I heard a voice behind me. "Ari?"

I turned to see a blond youth leading a brown horse. Two large, armed men strolled a pace behind him. I recognized them as the men who I had met in the meadow looking for the prince. "Derek?" I gasped.

"Ari!" Derek said happily. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm buying some food for my lady's dinner. And you?" I replied.

Derek shrugged. "Just wandering. It's a bit far just for food, don't you think?"

"She wanted the fresh kind." I scowled.

Derek laughed. "Would you like a ride back? I'm heading that way." He offered.

"Sure, if it's not too much trouble." I answered.

"No trouble at all." Derek assured me. He helped me mount the horse, food and all. When I was secure, he swung up behind me and clucked to his horse. Obediently, the mare trotted forward. The men mounted their own horses and followed. "Where to?" He asked.

"Just to the market near the Medan Manor." I replied.

As we rode down the path, I imagined an imagine Lucille's face if she saw the prince taking me home. I could not help but smile.

"What are smiling at?" The prince asked.

"Nothing. It's just a great day." I lied. But it really was a great day. The afternoon sun shone bright and clear, but did not beat down on our backs. The sharp winds that usually marked the beginning of fall were now just a refreshing breeze. Derek and I made small conversation as we rode. Derek hated the social courts, where everything was so formal and the ladies so clingy. He hated the guards his overprotective parents forced upon him. He however, was very fond of his twin brother and sister, despite the thirteen years age difference.

When we reached the market, I dismounted, gathering my armful of food. I expected the prince to ride away, but instead, he retied my bundles onto the horse and accompanied me as I walked through the market. When I finished my shopping, Derek took me back to the manor.

Lucille was in a horrible temper to find that I had arrived on time. Fuming, she sent me to the kitchen with the command that only I was to be cooking dinner for her and her friends. I worked nonstop for the next four hours, preparing the elaborate multi-course meal that Lucille had ordered for the party. When I was finally finished, I expected to be allowed to go into my room to change. Instead, Lucille sent for me. She had obviously not forgotten my punctuality and forced me to clip her toenails and dress and redress her hair.

Finally, a mere five minutes before the guest were scheduled to arrive, Lucille declared herself ready for the party. I rushed up to my room and changed into a cleaner dress, knowing that Helga would go crazy if I wore my dirty work dress while serving at her precious daughter's dinner party. I was busy in the kitchen when the guest started to arrive so my first glace at them was while serving during the first course.

There were eight of them, all rich, eligible young women. Vain and impudent, they giggled shrilly as they spoke in what they thought was a friendly way. But it was obvious that they considered each other as rivals, and strived to find each other's weaknesses. I found that they had one thing in common: obsession with the prince. Each girl was convinced that she was the fairest of them all and the one who would marry the prince. I was surprised to find Greta sitting beside her sister, staring dumbly at the girls. Lucille seemed to be in a foul mood, and often glared at Greta. Greta's presence was no doubt the cause.

I served the first course, soup, flawlessly, but when I turned to leave, Lucille grabbed my arm. "Girls." She announce loudly. "I would like you to meet my personal slave. . .um. . . Ella."

Greta blinked. "But I thought her name was A—."

"Hush, Greta." Lucille said quickly. "I was given Ella as a gift from my mother. She is completely paid for and will be mine until her death. Ella is such a dear. She loyally serves, but it's such a pity she is so stupid and clumsy. She can't do anything but what she is asked." I felt my fists clench as Lucille spoke. "Isn't that right, Ella?" When I didn't answer, Lucille's hold on my arm tightened and I felt her nails dig into my skin. "Do you want to be whipped?" She hissed in my ear.

"Yes, my lady." I said softly through clenched teeth. I didn't really care that Lucille had just embarrassed me in front of her friends; actually I probably couldn't care less. But Lucille had no right to call me her slave! What kind of idiot degrades someone, and then expects them to act normal and happy? Of course, Lucille would.

Lucille smiled. "Well, because of her loyalty, I consider her as my little dog. Fitting, don't you think?" She turned expectantly to the other girls who burst into fits of giggling. Lucille finally released me to prepare the next course.

The next time I served, my hand was shaking with anger. Lucille noticed and smiled to herself in satisfaction. As I was preparing the third course, I was called up to the dinning room. Apparently, there had been a spill and Lucille wanted me to clean it up. I walked to the dining room and alas, there was a large wine spill on the tile floor beside Lucille's chair. I knelt to clean it up, but Lucille knocked me over and I fell onto the mess. Lucille giggled shrilly, as if amused by my antics. "Ella, dear. You are suppose to mop up the wine with your rag, not your clothes." The other girls followed her example and laughed while Lucille said, "Is she not like a dog? She amuses me so." It took all my self control to leave the room without stamping.

On the final course, Lucille knocked me into the fireplace. When I crawled out, I had black smudges on my face and my hair and dress was powdered with soot. Lucille just said, "Oh Ella. You and your clumsiness. Maybe now we should call you Cinder Ella." She laughed and waved me away.

Hanna, the cook, took pity on me when she saw me stomp angrily into the kitchen with stains on my dress and soot in my hair. Aware of the rivalry between Lucille and I and seeing as I had done most of the cooking, Hanna released me to rest in my room.

When I reached my tower, I found Hank sunbathing on the ledge outside my window. When he saw me, he begged entrance. I let him in. He immediately sensed my mood. "What happened?" He ventured cautiously.

"Lucille!" I screamed, letting escape all the anger I kept pent up inside. I told the hawk about the dinner and thoroughly abused Lucille.

When I finished, Hank suggested, "Why don't you go see my nest while there's still sunlight."

I considered his proposal. Deciding that I had nothing else to do, I nodded. Hank led me to the window inlayed into the section of way that adjoined the roof of the manor. I opened the window and the hawk jumped out. I followed his suit. Hank hopped over to the side of the roof. Here he stopped.

"Slide down this slope." He instructed. "There will be a rock ledge. Parts of the ledge is crumbling, but if you land near the alcove, you should be fine." Hank flew down the slope and landed neatly on a ledge about a foot wide. He disappeared into a hole at one end of the ledge and stuck his head out. "Go on." He urged.

I sat down and slid down the slope as I would a slide. I landed painfully on the ledge. I laid down on the ledge and stuck my head into the entrance of Hank's home.

The alcove was much like a dog house. In front of the opening, in the center of the room, was Hank's nest of sticks and down. Piled along three walls were assortments of odds and ends.

"Rat pack." I muttered.

"I heard that." Said Hank.

"Cinderella." Greta called. She intercepted me as I headed to my tower. Since the party, Greta thought my name had been changed to Cinderella. No amount of explaining would convince her otherwise and I have since then given up.

"What, Greta." I said. Greta may be stupid, but she had no mean streak. I could get away with insubordination.

"I heard Lucille got a bath with rose petals. I want one too. I want one in my room. I want you to get the water and get the flowers."

I sighed. "Alright." I turned to leave but she stopped me.

"I want to pick the flowers with you." She demanded.

"Fine." I said. I led her outdoors through the back door. Beside the door was a large patch of dandelions. "Lets get those, Greta." I said, pointing to the dandelions.

"But those aren't roses." She protested.

"True, but weeds are better than roses."

"I don't want weeds!"

"And you won't have them." I hesitated, and then pushed my luck. "But Greta, those aren't weeds. Those are the prettiest flowers of all, even sweeter-smelling than roses."

"Really! Then let's get those."

Shaking my head at Greta's folly, I yanked at the weeds and deposited a handful in my basket. "I don't want the leaves, too." Greta whined.

"But the leaves make the flowers smell better." I lied.

"Ok then."

Half an hour later, I deposited Greta in her bath and left. Greta was immensely pleased with the dandelions, having absorbed all my tales. Along with the leaves, she had even allowed bits of the root in her bath. So young, but so dense. I pity her greatly.

As I tried to go to my room, once again I was intercepted. But this time, it was Lucille.

"Wait, Ari." She called.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes?"

"I found the most gorgeous butterfly pin in the market and mother gave me money to buy it. I want you to go get it. Give this bag to the jewelry vender, the greedy fat one, and retrieve my pin. Don't even think of stealing money in here. It's just enough and the vender knows the price we've agreed on."

"Ok." I said, taking the money bag Lucille had offered. I hiked to the market and found the merchant Lucille had been talking about. As I approached his booth, I could feel his eyes scan my body. I shivered and walked up to his stall. The merchant inside was old, fat, and balding. His black beady eyes were like mere marbles on a face wrinkled with fold upon fold of skin and his body more wide than tall. He wore a stained apron over his clothes and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing hairy arms.

"Little Miss Ari." He drawled. "What brings you here today?"

I shuddered at the raspy sound of his voice. "Miss Lucille has sent me here today to buy the butterfly pin." I said, careful to keep my voice indifferent.

"Ahhh, yes. Do you have the money?"

"Yes." I replied, holding out Lucille's bag. The merchant's eyes snapped on the bag. I handed it to him and he greedily snatched it. Dumping it in his hand, he counted its contents. Satisfied, he poured the coins back in to the case and grinned at me.

"You can't be too careful, especially here in the market. Isn't that right, little Miss Ari?"

I could feel the dark waters of disgust rising as he spoke. It took all I had to keep from shuddering. "Of course." I murmured, trying to shield my eyes from the sight of his rotting brown teeth and failing to do so.

The merchant grabbed a jeweled pin from one of the displays which he presented his wares and handed it to me. "Would you like something for yourself?"

"No thank you." I said quickly. I turned to leave.

"Won't you stay a little longer. We can have tea, and chat." The merchant said with a suggestive wink.

I shook my head and backed off. "Nice doing business with you, little Miss Ari. Come back soon!" He yelled after me.

Without reply, I turned and left, thoroughly disgusted. It was not until half-way back to the manor that I recovered from my revolting experience to examine the pin. It was a beautiful pin. It was mostly made of a shiny purple material, with gold trim and inset jewels. So Lucille _does_ have taste.

When I returned to the manor, Lucille all but pounced on me. "Do you have the pin?" She demanded.

I withdrew the pin from my pocket. Lucille snatched it and held it up in the light. "Lovely." She commented and she angled it so the sun's rays would make the gems sparkle. "Fit for a queen. Fit for _me_!" She giggled shrilly and started to walk away. Suddenly, she whirled around and said, "Ari, I have a date with the prince tomorrow. We'll be riding together." She paused and said dreamily, "He asked me himself, and his parents did too. Oh, the other girls will be so jealous that he fancies me, although I don't know how that comes as a shock to them. Anyways, be in my room at four."

"In the morning?" I gasped.

"Of course! I must have sufficient time to prepare for our big date." Lucille said and left be to my duties.

In the kitchen, I discovered, with the reliable help of gossip, that Lucille had lied . . . or at least mutilated the truth. One of the cooks, Beth, is currently seeing a stable boy and he had been present when the prince supposedly asked Lucille out. Apparently, Helga had bribed people to find arrange for her to "accidentally" bump into the royal family in front of a group of peasants. Lucille and her then made conversation with the royal family and pressured them until there was no choice, without acting rude in front of the peasants, but for the prince to ask Lucille on a date. And it wasn't even a real date. They were only going to attend a parade tomorrow with the prince. I had _thought_ it was weird that Derek would like Lucille. She was the classic example of the stalking harpies he said he loathed.

The next morning, promptly at four, I showed up yawning in Lucille's room. She was awake only enough to order me to wash and curl her hair and scent it with fragment oils. After murmuring instructions, she promptly fell back into deep slumber.

Grumbling, I set to do as she bid. I went out of my way to pull and tug at her hair. She probably didn't feel it, but it certainly made _me_ feel better.

Four hours later, Lucille woke up and screeched at me because I did not wake her. Half an hour later, she realized that she only had half an hour to prepare. I helped Lucille into a new dress and did her makeup. Lucille was barely on time for the parade.

That evening, Lucille returned in a foul mood. "Ahhh!" She screamed. She rushed up to her room slammed the door. He mother came in more gracefully. I quietly followed them. When they entered the room and shut the door, I pressed my head against the wooden door, but it wasn't necessary to hear the conversation.

Lucille screamed and I heard ceramic breaking. After about ten minutes, when I assumed there was nothing left to destroy, I heard Helga's cool voice. "What's wrong?"

"Everything!" Lucille screamed. "The prince didn't even notice me! I was beside him the entire time! How will he marry me if he won't spare me a second glance?"

"Dear, I've invited him over Saturday. You can show him around the manor and beguile him at the same time."

"I suppose so." Lucille said dubiously.

"Surely he cannot resist your charm if you spend time with him." Helga cooed.

"Of course not." Lucille sounded convinced and returned to her old arrogant self. "No man can resist me. He's probably lost and looking for love. One conversation with me shall convince him I am his long lost love. Not those sluttish harpies that stalk his every move."

I stifled a snort. Talk about irony.

Lucille continued, "I must pick out what I'll wear." I heard loud crashing sounds, as if Lucille knocked over chairs and desks in her rush to reach her dresser. "What shall I wear!" There was a slight hysterical note in her voice. "This pink one? No. I wore that at the ball last year. How about the navy one? But it's too high cut. Maybe the pale yellow . . ." I walked away. I can already predict what Lucille would say. _Oh, this one is too short. This one is too dark. This one I wore too recently._ It would be hours before something exciting happened in there.


	3. Of Brown Makeup and Spoiled Cats

Chapter 3: Of brown makeup and spoiled cats

The next day, I was woken up again at four by Lucille claiming that she needed help dressing for the prince. Deprived of my sleep twice in a row, I lethargically followed Lucille back to her room. This morning, Lucille was wide awake. Once again, Lucille forced me to wash her hair and rub in foul smelling perfume. Then, I curled and arranged her hair so that half of her hair was secured on top of her head with a jeweled hair band and the rest hung down her back in little locks and framed her face.

The makeup part was horrendous. Lucille had heard somewhere that the prince preferred girls who wore a ton of make up, but was able made it look natural. According to current gossip, a girl had achieved just that, and the prince danced with her at least a dozen times at the latest ball. The girl had also been wearing brown blush, and everyone thought the blush was what had attracted the prince. As a result, every eligible female now tried to replicate her makeup.

Of course I do not believe such a rumor. To be frank, it was probably started by some sly boy-obsessed girl trying to sabotage her rivals. But Lucille had absorbed every word of it. I plastered on layer upon layer of makeup, each time Lucille declared she had not worn enough makeup for the prince to notice her as he did the other girl. After that, Lucille hassled me because the makeup did not seem natural enough. How exactly does someone wear a ton of makeup, and then look like they did not wear any at all?

After about an hour, Lucille declared her makeup as satisfactory as it was going to get and we started on the blush. Lucille forced me to smear brown muddy paint on her cheeks and claimed that I had done it wrong, because she looked like she had fallen into the mud and the infamous girl did not look like this because if she did, than the prince certainly would not have danced with her then.

Half an hour later and Lucille had managed to convince herself that the brown makeup only seemed weird because it was a new trend and in reality, made her look as pretty as the girl the prince liked. With half an hour before the prince was due to arrive, I helped Lucille struggle into her dress. She had decided on it the day before. It was pink, as was half of her wardrobe, and covered with mesh and ribbons. The dress was sleeveless and low cut with bows plastered about the bodice. The waist was tight, and then flared out over the hips. Lucille wore eight petticoats underneath the dress, to give it a full effect, but in really, it made her look like a porcupine fish that rolled in pink paint, with ribbons and bows as spines and brown splashes on its cheeks.

Lucille hurried to the sitting room and stood there, pacing the room and peeking out from the windows at the front where the prince was arranged to arrive. As time went by and the prince failed to arrive, Lucille's pacing became frantic and her mood shifted from anxious to irate. Finally, ten minutes later, the herald announced the prince's arrival. Lucille shooed me from the room and into the servant's hallway. This was a poorly decorated hallway used by the servants during parties. It was connected to the kitchen, so the servants could deliver food and drinks without crowding the hallways. Ingenious, really.

As I peeked through the door, Prince Derek entered with his bodyguard and Helga. Derek recoiled slightly at the sight of Lucille's makeup and brown blush, but recovered nicely. Lucille was seated with her hands clasped on her lap and calmly drinking tea, as if she had not been venting at me just moments before. "Oh Prince Derek!" She said in an unnaturally high voice, "It's so nice of you to come."

"It's nice of you to invite me." Derek replied the polite mask on his face revealing nothing, but inside I suspect he is grimacing. Derek doesn't usually act so stiff.

Meanwhile, Helga had been trying to charm Derek's bodyguard. She was laughing and slapping his arm, but the bodyguard looked unperturbed. At last she tried to convince him to take a walk with her but the bodyguard refused to budge. At last, Helga left, rejected. Lucille, aggravated because her mother had fail to strip Derek of his bodyguard but quick to hide her displeasure, entwined Derek's arm with hers and led him away, giggling shrilly.

Later that morning, Hanna sent me to pick roses for the brunch table for Lucille and the prince. I heard a voice call my name.

"Ari!" I spun around. Derek was heading towards me. Lucille trailed behind him, the murderous look on her face suggested consequences. The bodyguard behind him, the same man I saw in the meadow and in the market, was grinning smugly at Lucille's displeasure.

"Hi Derek," I said when he reached me. Derek removed the basket from my arm and held it while I placed in cut roses. "How do you like the manor?"

"It's great." He said.

"Derek," whined Lucille. She tugged at his arm. "Let's so see the orchard over there."

"Alright, once I help Ari pick the roses." Derek replied.

"But Derek." Lucille complained. "The sun is hot and it's ruining my fair complexion and I want to go inside."

"This won't take long."

"But the sun is so hot. I will die of a heat-stroke."

"Alright." Derek surrendered and allowed Lucille to drag him away. "Bye Ari!" He called.

"Bye Derek!" I said. I turned back to my chores, happy to see Derek, but dreading the scene Lucille would throw later.

True to my prediction, Lucille sought me out as soon as Derek's carriage left the manor. "ARI!" she screamed. "HOW DARE YOU STEAL MY BOYFRIEND!"

"I didn't steal him." I replied calmly.

"YES YOU DID! DON'T YOU LIE TO ME, YOU UNGRATEFUL WRETCH!"

"I didn't lie."

"YES YOU DID! STAY AWAY FROM HIM!"

"Well I didn't exactly seek him out."

"You lying scheming vixen! You're trying to beguile him!" Lucille screamed. I couldn't help but chuckle slightly at the irony. Lucille became enraged at this. "WHAT ARE YOU LAUGHING AT? YOU WILL BE STARVED FOR THREE DAYS AND WILL BE FORCED TO DO ALL THE CHORES. THE OTHER SERVENTS WILL BE GIVEN THREE DAYS OFF!" Lucille stomped away. I could hear her screeching the rest of the day.

The punishment took effect the very next day. United in our hatred for Lucille, the other servants snuck me food and helped me with the chores when Lucille or Helga wasn't looking. Nevertheless, at the end of the three days, I was exhausted. Released from my chores the next morning out of pity and spite, I wandered outside. I strolled in to the stable, intending to find Togalo, but was distracted when I heard one of the horses neighing for me. I headed to Hotspur. Only four and a half years old and easily the most handsome of all the horses in the stable, Hotspur was the last foal of the placid mare which I first learned to ride on back when my parents were still alive. For this reason, and because he liked me most, I have more attraction to him than the other horses in the stable.

I approached the bay. He stretched his neck out to meet me and I stroked his nose. "Do you want to go for a ride?" I asked him softly. He neighed in reply. Far more intelligent than a horse should be, I'm sure Hotspur can understand me. I slipped into his stall and removed his saddle from where it hung on the walls of his cubicle. With deft fingers I placed the saddle on his back and secured the straps. Quietly, I led him out of his stall and out of the stable double doors. Outside, I mounted him and rode to the meadow where I first met Derek. Once there, I let Hotspur gallop to his heart's content. As I wheeled into the forest, I heard a cry for help. I stopped in my tracks.

"Help me!" I heard the voice scream again. I spun Hotspur around and we raced off towards the cry. As I hurried, I spotted a red fox pouncing on a bundle of brown fur that was crying piteously. All else forgotten, I dismounted quickly and hurried towards the fox, yelling loudly. The fox, hearing my footsteps and bellicose cries, bounded away. I picked up the bundle of muddy fur and examined it. It turned out to be a small kitten, female, that was battered and bruised and covered with caked blood. I grabbed the kitten, mounted Hotspur, and hurried home.

In the kitchen, I handed the kitten to Hanna. "The cat's fine." She announced after a through investigation. "It just needs a bath and some food. The wounds are shallow; they'll heal quickly, especially for a strong young cat like this one. There's so ointment in the medicine cabinet." Hanna gave the kitten a last caress and handed her to me. "I suspect she has fleas, too."

I thanked Hanna and carried the kitten up to my room. In a small tub of lukewarm water, I bathed the cat and cleaned her cuts. The cat turned out to be a snowy unblemished white, with floppy ears and the sweetest expression on her face. As I dipped the kitten for one last rinse, Hank flew in.

"So you brought home a stray." He said. He scrutinized the pup.

"What's wrong?" I asked, feeling uneasy as Hank stared at the kitten.

"Where did you get that cat?" He asked slowly.

"Over in the forest. Is that bad?" I was worried.

"Not necessarily. I'm probably just being over protective. Anyways, how is it?"

"Not bad, just bruised and starved." I held the kitten up to my face. "Maybe I'll call her Snow." The kitten made a face. "No? How about Blizzard?"

"Ewww." Said a squeaky voice.

"Did you say that?" I said to Hank. He shook his head.

"I did." The small voice said again.

I turned to Hank. "You heard that too, right." He nodded. "Is it you?" I looked at the kitten.

I half expected Hank to burst out laughing at my naiveness, but to my surprise, the kitten nodded. I screamed and dropped the cat in horror. I scrambled hastily away. The cat yelped and complained, "that _hurt_!"

Mouth agape, I stared at the cat. She cocked her head at me. "What?" She said, perplexed at odd behavior. She turned to Hank. "Hi, Uncle Hank." She said. To my astonishment, Hank did not seem surprised. He hopped over to the bird and asked, "You're one of Betelgeuse's daughters, right?"

"Yes." The cat replied proudly. "I am a child of peerless Betelgeuse and noble Altair and royal blood."

"I knew it!" cried Hank.

"Knew what?" I piped in.

"That this was a descendent of Betelgeuse." Hank explained. "Although how one of her children could reach her I don't know."

"I was sunning outside when a giant bird grabbed me. It tried to feed me to its chicks, but I bit it and the disgusting creature dropped me. It had dried blood caked on its talons and some of it got smeared on my fur! But luckily, I fell into a river, where the blood washed out before it could leave a scent. The river deposited me onto a muddy bank, and I wandered lost for days until I met that horrible fox in the forest."

As the kitten finished her story, Hank shook his head. "I always told Betelgeuse that she'd lose one of her puppies if she didn't take care of then correctly. And now it's happened."

"Who's Betelgeuse?" I asked.

"The most exquisite cat in my land. She could speak, like me and a select group of other animals, and she is known to be very lovely with peerless white fur, just like this pup's." Hank nudged the cat.

"My _name_ is Beryl." The pup said resentfully.

"My mistake, Beryl." Apologized Hank with a mock bow. The cat smiled smugly. "Betelgeuse and her children are the prized cats of the king. She's used to the life of luxury, and thus is completely irresponsible when it comes to her children."

Indignant, Beryl opened her mouth to speak, but Hank interrupted her. "Ari, some of her bandages have come off."

As I adjusted the bandages that had been knocked askew by the fall, Beryl stretched out onto the floor as if reclining and held out the offending limb. She yawned, and then added, "I'm really hungry too," before closing her eyes.

Noticing her antics, Hank mouthed, "And I forgot to add that Betelgeuse and her children are extremely spoiled!"

Bandage fixed, I carried Beryl down to the kitchen to satisfy her hunger. On the way, I encountered Lucille.

"Ari—" Lucille paused when she noticed the pup. "Oh! What a pretty kitten. Give it to me!" Lucille held her hand out for Beryl. When I refused, she tried to snatch her from my grip. Beryl growled and tried to bite the offending hand. Horrified, Lucille snatched back her hand and caressed it, all while glaring at me. "Humph," she said and walked away, nose held high.

Feeling much more friendly towards Beryl, I continued my trip to the kitchen. There, Beryl was welcomed with the same enthusiasm. The maids both wanted to stroke Beryl's soft white fur and scratch her head. Even Hanna paused to feed her tidbits. Soon Beryl could been seen wandering in and out of the kitchen periodically, each time she was fed choice bits of meat and stroked. Yvette and Beth found ribbons which they tied around her neck and changed constantly. Beryl never soiled her ribbons, a feature which the girls coveted.

Later that day, I met Lucille, again with Beryl in my arms. This time, Lucille did not try to pet her, but sneered at her as if she was filth. Lucille was obviously still annoyed over her rejection and the cat's preference of me over her.

"The prince is coming over again next week." Lucille said. "I want you out. Gone. Out of my way. Is that clear?" Lucille glared at me with what she thought was an intimidating glare.

"Yes." I replied sweetly.

"And whatever that no good, four-legged scoundrel eats comes out of your meals." Lucille huffed and stalked away.

A/N: Yet another late installment. I realize its kind of late but . . . Happy Thanksgiving! Review, please.


	4. Auberta

Chapter 4: Auberta

On the day the prince was due to visit, true to my word, I spent my morning in the stables with Beryl, figuring that Lucille would die before entering the stable with its somewhat musty smell and noisiness. But I was wrong. As I lounged on the hay, teasing Beryl with a bit of straw, I heard shrill laughter and footsteps. As the footsteps grew louder, I hid myself in the straw, knowing that only Lucille could have such a high-pitched laugh.

As I finished burrowing into the hay stack, I heard the stable doors creak open and Lucille enter with the prince.

"—and tripped into the fireplace. It was the most hilarious thing that ever happened." Lucille was saying. She laughed again as if to prove her point.

Derek gave a forced laugh.

"Enough about her." Lucille said. "I though maybe we could go riding today. I absolutely love horses, you know." I stifled a snort. Lucille hated horses. She thought they were smelly, noisy, and left hair on her dress.

Derek seemed dubious about her claim also, but was quick to hide it. Lucille beckoned for Derek's guard to saddle his horse while one of the stable boys saddle the horse of her choice, Hotspur. I scorn her poor choice. Hotspur is a beauty, that much is true, but he is also frisky and volatile, especially with a strange rider. The stable boy tried to warn Lucille of the horse's temperament, but Lucille waved him aside and ordered him to continue.

Five minutes later, Lucille and Derek rode away. I uncovered myself from the hay and wandered to the willow tree that was my place of solace. Unfortunately, Lucille was there also. Luckily, I could not be seen from behind the willow branches.

Lucille had trying to prove to Derek her superior riding skills, but found that the pink silk dress she bought especially for this occasion was slippery on the sidesaddle. As a result, she was slowly slipping off the saddle. She dug her heels into Hotspur's side and often used the reins to pull herself back onto the saddle. With each yank, the bit dug itself deeper into Hotspur's tender mouth and he, already agitated with his rider's constant motion, became nervous and panicky. As a result, his gait grew bumpy and caused Lucille's dress to slip further, thus continuing the chain reaction.

Derek seemed to have noticed the silent struggle, but showed no signs except for an enlarged gap between him and Lucille as they rode in the meadow. Finally, Lucille, dangerously slipping off the saddle but trying to stay on by pulling harder than ever on the reins, realized that all hope of impressing Derek had evaporated and tried a different ploy. She jerked suddenly on Hotspur's rein and dug the heel of her shoes into his side. He reared in surprise and pain. As he teetered on his hind legs, Lucille dropped the reins and slid neatly to the ground, all the while screaming for help. Derek rushed over and comforted Hotspur who calmed as soon as the pressure on his reins ceased.

Meanwhile, Lucille had collapsed in a heap on the ground and was crying piteously. When Derek bent to see what was wrong, she threw herself onto his chest and wrapped her arms around him.

"Ttthat hhorse." She said between sobs. "Hhe just suddenly went ccrazy." She broke out in tears again. Derek handed her a handkerchief. She wiped her tears and continued. "It was all so fast. I'm so scared. I don't want to ride him back, Prince Derek. Please don't make me ride him." Lucille collapsed in his arms in another sobbing fit. I understand her plan now. She was trying to force the prince to offer to take her back on his horse with him. That was an underhanded attempt to gain the prince's affections. Derek did not reply. He only patted her back awkwardly.

To Lucille's dismay, Hotspur, having been ignored during Lucille's outburst, sensed that I was near and was now nudging me from my hiding place under the willow tree. An unlucky turn of events. As much as I spitefully wished that Lucille's date would go wrong, I can't help but cringe at the tantrum she would throw later now that she could accuse me of spying and I could not deny the evidence. Nevertheless, I am glad to see Hotspur. Derek seemed happy to see me too, for he invited me to ride back to the manor with him and Lucille. I declined the offer; Lucille's face promised consequences if I did. Lucille got her wish and rode back with Derek on his horse; she clung to him so tightly the only choice he had _was _to deposit her on his horse, although, judging from his carefully concealed facial expressions, Derek did not favor her clinginess. Poor Derek, being the perfect diplomat has its downsides.

Later that evening, I snuck back to the manor, hoping to make a quiet entrance, but Lucille was waiting for me in the hallway.

"ARI!" She shrieked as soon as she caught sight of me.

I cringed at the noise and faced her, smiling sweetly. "Yes?" I asked quietly.

Lucille marched up to me and slapped me across the cheek. I clutched my cheek, not in pain as much as in surprise.

"HOW DARE YOU! AFTER I WARNED YOU TO STAY AWAY FROM HIM!"

"I didn't exactly walk up to him and interrupt the date."

"YOU WERE SPYING ON US, TRYING TO FIND AN OPPORTUNITY TO BUTT IN!" Lucille accused. I didn't try to correct her views. She wouldn't believe me anyways and the evidence was apparent. "DON'T EVEN TRY TO DENY IT!"

"Believe what you want to believe." I said quietly.

"THE PRINCE IS MINE!"

"That's for the prince to decide."

"YOU'RE JUST TRYING TO STEAL HIM FROM ME!"

"It's kinda hard to steal what you don't have. And I'm not interested." That was a completely lie. I admit I find him somewhat attractive. Clear green eyes, tousled blond hair that was just the right length . . .

"WELL STAY AWAY FROM HIM! I FORBID YOU EVER TO SEE HIM AGAIN!"

"I'll stop arranging secret meetings with him behind your back." I said sarcastically.

Lucille sputtered, and then stomped away angrily. As she left, I noticed Hanna, Yvette, and Beth listening in on the conversation. Hanna was shaking her head with a slight smile on her face. Beth looked torn between amusement and astonishment. Yvette looked utterly shocked.

"Don't ask." I told them, heading for my duties in the kitchen. "She's just on one of her rampages." Hanna and Beth grinned as I brushed past.

A week later, I was sent to the market for food. Beryl decided to accompany me. She wandered at my heels as I shopped, amazed at the noisy bustling streets.

"I've never seen so many people. And behaving in such a way." She confided in me.

"Didn't you live in the palace?" I asked her.

"Of course I did." She said. "But the people are always polite and well-bred. I've never seen such behavior." Beryl nodded to man who was yelling at a young dirty boy who ran down the street clutching an apple. The man remained me of the creepy shopkeeper that sold me the butterfly pin. He had the same dirty clothes and hairy arms, but was less disgusting. The man was cursing and making rude gestures at the boy, who had, by now, dissolved into the crowd.

"I see what you mean." I answered after a moment. I had never noticed such behavior, rather, I was always aware of them, but never paid any attention to them. I had grown up in this kind of environment. This was what I considered normal. It was kind of depressing, actually. I am a duke's eldest daughter, and an heiress to boot. I should be growing up with champagne and balls, not wandering unchecked in a world of day old hardened bread and dirty streets. But I'm not going to mourn my fate. I cannot change my past, but I can ensure my future. I have thought of running away, but dismissed the notion as rash. Where would I go? What would I live on? If maybe I can buy time until I'm eighteen and legally old enough to hold property and then find some way to prove my claim. . .

I snapped back to reality when a cheerful blond head appeared in my vision spectrum.

"Hey, Derek." I said.

"Hello, Ari." He replied. He fell in step with me. Two of his customary guards were trailing him, looking somewhat amused.

"This is Beryl." I said, nudging the cat gently with my foot. She meowed in complaint.

"She's pretty." Derek remarked. "Lovely fur." Beryl forgot her former grievances and basked in his admiration. A minute later, she strayed ahead. Derek and I walked silently for a minute.

"Did you enjoy your visit to the manor last week?" I asked cautiously, breaking the silence.

"Your lands are vast and beautiful." Derek replied courteously. "But as for the visit and company, I'd have to say no. Between you and me, Lucille is pulling on my last nerve." His voice here turned honest.

"She's a terror all right." I said.

"Undoubtedly." He agreed amicably. "She's too clingy."

"Shouldn't you be used to that? Seeing as how half the female court's in love with you." I felt brave enough to tease.

"Only half?" Derek mimicked a sorrowful face. "But you're right. I should be used to that by now. But Lucille's one of the worst."

"Seeing as how she schemes and dreams, I believe you."

'That horse trick she pulled last week? sly." He said. How observant. I wasn't sure he had noticed.

"Actually, I think the Thelma girl was more devious." This remark came from one of Derek's guards.

"You mean Teresa? Of Nynna?" Derek corrected him.

"Whatever." The guard replied, waving aside the comment.

"Oh, you mean the teacup trick!" The other guard piped in.

"Oh no!" Derek moaned.

"Yes! That one." The first guard cried triumphantly. "The girl spilled boiling tea on him so she could make him take off his shirt. He walked away embarrassed and frightened, but at least he still had his shirt, with a big stain on it."

Derek covered his face with his hands, but he was smiling good-naturedly.

"Or the time at the ball with that one girl." The second guard declared.

"Oh no. That was horrible!" Derek cried. "Don't say it, Ortizo."

But the man referred to as Ortizo rambled on despite his prince's order. "He was dancing with her at his sixteenth birthday ball, and she knocked his hand down her back so it'd look like he was trying to feel her up. Everyone noticed and rumors were flying."

Derek didn't look at all angry that his guard had disobeyed his order. On the contrary, there was a smile on his incredibly red face. "Must you bring up the worst of them?" He asked half-heartedly.

The first guard thumped him on the back. "But they're so amusing."

"For _you_, maybe." Derek said. "People weren't coming up to you and asking for engagement dates months afterwards. And those knowing winks I had to endure!"

At this remark, both guards burst out in affable laughter. Before long, Derek and I had joined them. Slowly the conversation drifted from one topic to the next. The guards, Ortizo and Rameses were incredibly good natured and, with them, Derek shed his courteous mask. Gradually, Derek and I slipped ahead, while the guards lagged behind until they were out of earshot.

The conversation suddenly stopped and uncomfortable silence replaced it. "Um, Ari?" Derek said uncomfortably after a moment.

"Hmm?"

"Uh, my sister and brother are having a birthday party day after tomorrow. It's going to be small one, with just a few of their closest friends. My parents want me to baby sit, and I was wondering if you would, uh, come with me. As a friend. Just to help me control the children."

I found it strange that the maids could not help care for the children, but I said yes anyways. Derek looked immensely relieved. A short silence followed. "So I'll see you at ten in the morning?" Derek said.

I nodded.

"That's great. Bye." Derek beckoned to the men who were watching us with amused expressions on their faces. I watched them walk away. When I was out of earshot, one of the guards, Ortizo, said something to the prince. Derek shook his head and blushed. He stole a glance back at me from the corner of his eye. The other guard said something and Derek turned his back to me.

Shaking my head, I hurried home. Beryl reappeared at my heels, having wandered off. She was not her loquacious self. She was tired, no doubt. I myself was tired from today's excitement. Why had I agreed to attend the birthday party? What would I wear? I couldn't wear my maid's shift. How could I sneak out and attend the party without Helga's knowledge?

I had arrived at the manor. I snuck in through the kitchen door and, knowing that I would be yelled at if Helga discovered me coming home later, hoped feverishly that no one was present. Luck was with me that day. Only Hanna was there, busily stirring a steaming pot. She nodded to me as I placed the basket of groceries and winked as I slipped out. Let her think I was out with some peasant boy. It didn't make a difference. I had more on my mind. To be frank, I never really liked children. I certainly don't hate children. My opinion towards them is more like indifference. Children and I just never connected. I would be a horrible nursemaid. Children are always saying something incoherently. They'd go up to me and whisper something in my ear or wave in my face a roughly drawn picture and I wouldn't have a clue what was going on. I'd just nod and smile and walk away. I try to act sweet and kind, but my act always seems fake somehow and I can't understand children when they speak, but causes somewhat of a problem. I can't connect with children. I can't have a conversation with them. I just don't know what to say around them. And I'm a nervous wreck around crying children. It's so awkward when I try to comfort them and I just end up with a headache. I like sweet quiet children, but loud and bossy ones? I can't deal with that. More urgent than my dislike of children was my dress, or lack of, and an excuse for taking half the day off. For this, I consulted good old reliable Togalo.

"I could pretend to send you off somewhere for half the day." He offered. "But that would still leave the problem with the dress."

I was suddenly stuck with inspiration. "Just arrange the trip, Togalo. Leave the dress to me."

That night, during dinner, I snuck into Lucille's closet. She had an immense closet; it was probably bigger than that little cubicle I call my room. Lucille had an overwhelming amount of dresses. I snuck to the end of the closet, where there was another closet within a closet. In here Lucille kept dresses that she outgrew, or did not like. I opened door and began to finger through the dresses. Most of the dresses truly were hideous, but I found one I liked shoved in the very back. It was a pastel pink sundress made of a soft silk. The dress was sleeveless with a hem that was cut slanted from knee to mid thigh and had a flare to it. It had little decorations, except for a soft sprinkle of glitter on the skirt and a few well placed silk flowers. While Lucille hated it for its simplicity, it was perfect for my purposes.

Draping the dress over my arm, I quietly snuck out of Lucille's room and raced to my tower. There, I slipped on the dress and admired myself in a mirror I had scavenged. The dress was rather high cut, another reason Lucille hated it, but I was going to a child's birthday party, not looking for a suitor at a ball. The waist was incredibly small. Lucille was never able to fit comfortably into it, but I could, thanks to several years of meager meals, courtesy of Helga.

Satisfied, I slipped off the dress and tucked it into a cardboard box under my bed. Lucille would never notice that it was missing. She never checked the dresses in that closet. I was only borrowing it for two nights after all. And besides, it was so old Lucille probably wouldn't recognize it if she saw me wearing it.

The next morning, Lucille pulled me aside. For once I was fearful. I thought she had discovered the dress was missing. But it turned out Lucille was just drooling over Derek again.

"Ari." Lucille snarled. "I've invited the prince over again today. I told you last time to disappear, but you just couldn't stay away. This time, I am personally making sure you never come in contact with him. If you disobey me, there _will_ be consequences. _Do you understand me?_"

"Yes." I replied. For once in my life, there was no hint of sarcasm in my voice. Lucille was deadly serious about her threat. I was beginning to regret going to the party. Just a little. Just for a moment.

True to her word, half an hour before Derek was due to arrive, Lucille personally saw me to my room and slammed the door in my face. She added a personal touch: a large padlock. I didn't count on that. Lucille would probably pretend ignorance and leave me up here out of spite. The manor and grounds were large enough that the few servants would not be perturbed if I was missing for hours, and maybe even a day or two.

Slightly irked by the lock, not as much by the prospect of dying of hunger because I could always scale the walls or screech out the window after Derek left but by this show of power, I decided to spy on Lucille. She had accused me of the crime last week and now I was only fulfilling it.

I climbed out my window and on to the roof in the same way which I access Hank's nest. Hank heard the noise and clambered out of his doghouse. He took one look at me and sighed wearily. "What are you up to now, Ari?" He said.

"Lucille locked me in my room." I replied simply.

"And now you want revenge by spying on her." Hank finished. He knew me too well. Hank settled beside me where I lay down, sticking my head over the roof top. Five minutes later, the Derek and his two bodyguards arrived on horseback. Lucille was waiting at the door. As soon as he halted to a stop, she rushed up, said something, and started giggling. Typical. Derek smiled but did not say anything in reply. The conversation continued like this for a couple of minutes as the stable boys came and led the horses away. Then Lucille, grasping Derek's arm firmly, led he to the side of the house, glaring at the bodyguards as if to warning them from interfering. Ortizo and Rameses rolled their eyes behind her back. It seems they didn't care much for their master's new companion. The bodyguards followed the pair, keeping a certain space between them and the couple. It was not as much as Lucille wanted, however, because she kept glaring at them. Indeed, the space they allowed was much less than when I met Derek yesterday. It ensured that Lucille and Derek would have no privacy. I suspect Ortizo and Rameses did this on purpose. They seem like the kind of people who thinks an angry Lucille is comical. I crept slowly rooftop, following the couple.

"Wait!" Hank cried. I stopped, but it was too late. I had wandered onto a crumbling ledge. The cement collapse under my weight and I felt the ground beneath me disintegrate. I dropped for a split second, but then stopped. I was surprised. I had expected the ground to be farther down. Looking around, I realized that I was not on the ground, but had landed on another section of the roof. I held my breath and waited in silence for a moment. A shrill voice continued steadily. I let out my breath. Lucille had not heard the falling pieces of cement. I looked around. The roof was such a rough terrain. It had peaks and gorges, plateaus and basins. The part I landed on was about 10 feet below the rest of the roof. It was probably the roof to the kitchen. The kitchen was a square attached to the rest of the house similarly to how a small cube is attached to a larger cube. Thus the shape of the house is a square with a wart on its side. The roof of the kitchen is shaped like the roof of the main house, but the black stuff that covered it was not at all connected with the black stuff that covered the rest of the house. I hid behind the chimney and glanced at the retreating backs of the couple. Derek and Lucille went on unaware, but the two bodyguards were looking around. Then, one of the them spotted me and winked. I grinned sheepishly and ducked my head.

Hank flopped down beside me in an ungraceful heap. "You almost gave me a heart attack." He panted.

"Sorry."

"Never mind. How do we get up back up?" I looked up. The ledge was about ten feet up. There was no way I'd be able to climb vertically.

"I can climb back into the manor through this window." I said, pointing to a window besides Hank. Scooting forward, I pushed upward on the glass. The window wouldn't budge. Hank came and tried to help as much as he could. Finally, the window creaked open. Hank and I tumbled in.

We landed in a small room. The walls were filled with replete bookcases. Mismatched furniture was placed in the room, with several chests on the floor. No one had been inside the room for years, for there was a thick blanket of dust on everything.

I stood up and dusted off my clothes. Hank flew around the room to investigate. His wings blew the dust into the air. "Hank!" I cried.

"Sorry." He said sheepishly.

I smiled to assure him that I forgave him. While wandering the room, I spotted a book lying on the table. I pulled out a chair and sat down.

"What's that?" Hank asked, hopping over.

"Diary." I said. I opened the book. The first page was filled with a child's messy handwriting. "Dear Diary." I read aloud. "I am Auberta Marie Kingsford." I stopped. Auberta Marie Kingsford was my mother. I felt tears beginning to form in my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I read on. "I got you for my fourth birthday. My mommy and daddy gave you to me. They said every young girl should have a diary to record her daily thoughts So I'm going to tell you everything. I am here with my mommy and daddy at my auntie's house. I like her house. Her son Charlie is here. He is adopted." The diary went on to explain who Auberta had found this room and decided to make it her secret playroom. Looking around, it did seem like a child's playroom, but the toys were neatly placed on a shelf as if they had long gone out of use. I turned back to the book. Auberta wrote daily for about two months. Then she said she left to go back to her manor. A year later, she came back for the summer. This continued for years. Then, when Auberta was 12, she left her family for Winston's Academy for Women. I had heard of the place. It taught women domestic duties and prepared them for marriage. Many women who graduated from that academy went on to marry rich and high-ranking men. It was nearly impossible to enroll. They only accepted the best and prettiest.

Auberta returned when she was 16. Now her handwriting was as neat as a typewriter's. Her letters had a flourish in each of them that I was never able to develop. She wrote about her delight at her aunt's adopted son's transformation since she had been gone and about her secret crush on him. For six months she faithfully recorded every word he spoke to her, every look he cast her way, and every deed he did for her. Finally he had asked her to a ball. On the night of the ball, Auberta wrote on a tear stained page that wine had spilled on her new dress, to her embarrassment. She was in tears when she wrote the entry, sure that Charles, as he was now called, would be ashamed to seen with her in public and that all her chances with him had been ruined. However, Charles did not seem to mind because, a year later, he proposed to her. Her last entry was dated right before her wedding. She was ecstatic and left the dress in a chest in the secret room was a reminder of her first date with Charles. I looked around for the dress. I spotted a closed chest in the corner of the room. Putting the diary down, I walked over and tried to open the lid. It was stuck. I pushed and shoved at the lid and, finally, I was able to pry open the chest. Inside, neatly folded was a pile of pastel pink material. I carefully took out the dress and unfolded it. As I shook it, two glass objects dropped from inside the folds. I stared open-mouthed in horror and the objects continued in their crash course to the floor. When they landed, I expected an explosion of glass shards, but instead, they simply clinked when they touched the ground. I picked them up. They were slippers, made completely of glass. Not a crack had formed from the fall.

"Try them on." Said Hank, breaking the silence. Obeying his command, I slipped the shoes onto my feet. They fit perfectly. I walked cautiously in them. They made small clicking sounds on the floor and did not break. More confident, I twirled in the slippers. Unused to the thin heels, I tripped. Once again, the glass slippers remained in perfect shape.

Taking the hint, I slipped off the shoes and placed them carefully on the tabletop. I unfolded the dress. It was simply magnificent. I have never seen anything like it in my life. I realize that some of Lucille's dresses probably cost more, but they had been so loaded down with ribbons that they looked overdone. Besides, Lucille wore them and anything Lucille touched automatically became filthy.

I held the dress up to myself. The bodice was tight, with straps that went over my shoulder to support it. A spray of roses with pink ribbon as pinned to one of the straps. Small silk flowers and pearls were sewn to the bodice and accented the tiny waist. The dress was made of a shiny pink material, with a gauzy soft fabric that covered part of the full skirt and gave it a look like it was floating.

But Auberta had not exaggerated about the stain. It truly was horrendous. The wine had dyed the entire front of the bodice and a large portion of the skirt red. There was no way to hide such a stain and wine is impossible to completely remove. "What a pity." I remarked as I folded up the dress and wrapped it around the slippers. I was going to take the dress and slippers back with me to my room. Despite the stain, the dress was too beautiful to leave here to rot. It had been my mother's after all, and that automatically made it priceless.

A/N: People have been complaining about Derek's character, or lack of, and I completely agree with the comments, so I included that long overdue insight into his thoughts. I know he seems kind of wimpy, but give him a chance.

**Kittycutie** – Thank you! Here's the next chapter

**Shattered rainbow** – The talking cats are from a different land. This land is unknown to most of the human world and has magic and, of course, talking animals. This is also the land where Hank the hawk and Ari's godfather lives. Beryl and her family are prized cats of the king of this magical land because they're so pretty. Beryl's just a little bit conceited because of her royal heritage.

**Crazybeautiful**- It's so great to know people enjoy my story .I love the hawk too.

**Li'l bling bling – **here's more writing, just like you asked

**Masked Dragonfly 0926** – Happy Thanksgiving to you, too, although it's kind of late. . **third class leper** – Derek's character is a bit more developed here, but I have a feeling you'll still find him dull. I'll try more later on.

**Abby – **Thank you. I completely agree that Derek's character is undeveloped.

**Scoutcraft Piratess**- I agree, Lucille is delusional. And she just keeps getting worse.


	5. Uhoh

The day of the birthday party arrived and Togalo concocted some Ari-is-picking-up-some-plow-stuff-from-a-town-faraway story and Helga bought it. That left me all morning and most of the afternoon free.

That morning I left the house in full view of all the members on Hotspur. Lucille's dress was folded and safely tucked in a pack supposedly containing my lunch. Togalo had slipped me some weird looking piece of metal in case Helga questioned me upon my return.

As soon was I was out of view of the house, I changed directions and rode directly to my willow tree. There, under the cover of its draping branches, I changed into Lucille's dress and tucked my maid's attire back into my lunch bag. I slipped off my ugly holey shoes and slipped on a pair of sandals I had borrowed from Beth, with a few well chosen words. Apparently, Beth loved romance as much as Hanna did and she thought the reason I was absent so much was because I was currently seeing some peasant boy. _Oh Ari. _She had said. _I always knew you wouldn't stay single for long. Who is this friend of yours?_ I pretended to blush and walked away, barely containing my laugher. At least I could sneak in late without getting in trouble and borrow clothes with explanations. Lucille had better shoes, but she, like Helga and Greta, was cursed with abnormally big feet. I would never fit in them.

I changed the saddle on Hotspur to a sidesaddle I had hidden at the base of the willow tree. I wrapped the regular saddle in waterproof paper in case in rained and left it on the ground. I climbed onto the saddle and, disliking the uncomfortable feeling of a sidesaddle and understanding now how Lucille could slip off the saddle that day in the meadow, rode away.

Derek was waiting for me at the front of the manor with Ortizo and Rameses. He jogged up to me and helped me off my horse. A stable boy came and took Hotspurs away.

"You look nice." Derek said.

"Thank you." I replied, blushing. In the background, Ortizo and Rameses grinned. Derek led me into the entrance hall. It was magnificent. The hall was about 20 feet wide extremely long. The floor and walls were polished marble. It was lavishly decorated with paintings, statues, and gold trim. Glass chandeliers hung from the ceiling and sparkled tin their own light. A row of crystal lights was strung on both walls, ending at the end of the hall. Derek pulled me into another corridor just off the entrance. This one was much more poorly decorated; the walls and floors were made of wood and the decoration was limited to plants and a few paintings. We walked to the end of the hallway and out a door that led outside. A short stroll on a paved sidewalk led to a pavilion. A table set with candies and sweets was set up. Balloons and colorful streamers decorated the pavilion. Paper lanterns hung out of reach of little hands completed the look. Already, three little children had arrived. As we climbed the stone steps leading up to the pavilion, two of them ran to Derek crying, "Derek! Derek!" Derek scooped them up and hugged them. He set them down where they peered shyly at me.

"Thomas, Gertie, this is Ari. Ari, this is my brother and sister, Thomas and Gertie."

"Hello." I said, smiling as sweetly as I could. Thomas waved shy and Gertie only stared at me. Silence followed. "How old are you turning?" I asked, hoping to break the silence. The children stared at me.

"They're turning six." Derek answered when Thomas and Gertie did not reply.

"That's nice." I said. Thomas and Gertie looked at me nervously. More silence ensured. Finally, Derek bent and whispered something to them. Thomas nodded and left, taking his sister with him.

"They're usually more talkative. They'll get use to you in time." Derek apologized.

"That's alright. They're sweet." I replied.

"More children should be arriving soon." Said Derek. He led me to a corner of the pavilion where we could sit and watch the children. True to his word, people began bringing in children until the pavilion contained about fifteen little kids. Derek and I simply sat in two chairs placed a little outside the pavilion occasionally stopping children from throwing candy or playing too rough. It was the nursemaids' job to make sure everything went smoothly, but a few extra pairs of hands didn't hurt. Besides, I had time to bond with the little children, the little brats. They weren't all bad. There was just this one kid, Lord Deaver of something. He was the devil reincarnated. He found me incredibly amusing, fun to throw food at or just to point at and laugh hysterically. He had a trick of holding his breath until he was blue in the face. As much as I wished to let him suffocate himself, I couldn't help but worry when his face turned a particular shade of purple. I would beg him to let out his breath, and he would, just to laugh in my face. He tried the trick several times, and I fell for it every time.

However, Derek's brother and sister was incredible sweet, Gertie especially. Once she got over her shyness of me, a formidable task that required much coaxing on Derek's part, she became extremely fond of me. She brought me bits of food or toys and loved to sit on my lap. I think she felt out of place at the party; most of the guests were males and they were getting rowdy, a bit too much for quiet Gertie. Thomas liked me, a little. He was somewhat genuine when he talked to me, even though Derek made him be nice, but he ignored me most of the time.

At around one in the afternoon, when the sun shined hotly and the children were drowsy, the nursemaids came and took away all the children. Gertie was the last to leave. When she was taken off my lap she unexpectedly turned around and gave me a kiss on the cheek. That was absolutely the sweetest thing I had ever received. I completely regret calling the children brats earlier.

Derek seemed pleased with Gertie's attachment to me. When I recovered from the shock, he led me to the front of the building where Hotspur was waiting.

I entered the manor through the kitchen. Beth was standing by the stove cooking today's dinner. I placed the bag with her sandals on the kitchen counter beside her, brightly murmuring a word of thanks. She didn't reply; she only glanced once at the bag, once at me, and then hurriedly returned to her cooking. I immediately sensed that something was wrong in the house. It was too quiet. The servants were all busily and seemed determined not to meet my eyes. They made not a sound as they worked and were constantly glancing around nervously, as if afraid something would spontaneously explode. What would explode, I soon learned, was Helga.

I found Helga and Lucille in the sitting room drinking tea quietly. When I appeared, Helga motioned for me to enter and close the door behind me. As soon as I did so, Lucille appeared out of thin air and snatched my bag from my surprised hands. She dumped its contents onto the floor unceremoniously. I quietly thanked the gods that I had returned the sandals to Beth right before I entered.

"Ah ha!" Lucille cried triumphantly. "This is my dress! You stole it." She seized the pink bundle, shook it in my face, and then returned to sit by her mother, tossing the dress carelessly onto an empty chair.

When silence was restored, Helga said coldly. "Where have you been, Ari?" I said nothing, only returned her gaze levelly. "Let me answer that for you." Helga continued. "You were off making frivolous trips with Prince Derek. You lied to us. There was no trip to pick up plow supplies. I suppose Togalo was in on the scheme too. I'll have to do something about that."

"Wait!" I cried. "Togalo didn't know anything. I did pick up the plow supply." I couldn't let Togalo get fired because of me. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the freaky metal piece Togalo had given me this morning. "I did pick up the plow supplies. Here it is. The trip took less time than Togalo intended. I stopped by the party instead to going home early." I handed Helga the piece of metal. She examined it carefully.

"What is it?" She asked me, eyes narrowed.

I shrugged. "I don't know. I think the man at the store said it was part of the moldboard plow bottom, whatever that is." Helga seemed convinced. Obviously, her knowledge of plows was as limited as mine.

"Well." Helga said. "This absence is inexcusable. Not only were you dallying from your chores, you were interacting with Prince Derek. This shall not happen again." I glanced at Lucille. She was smiling smugly at herself.

"Like you could stop me." I muttered quietly.

"What was that?" Helga demanded.

"Nothing." I said quickly.

"Are you sure, because I could have sworn I heard something along the lines of _try and stop me_. Really, Ari. I'm quite sad that we have come to this, but you leave me no choice. I shall send you away."

"Away?"

"Yes. Away. We can't have you here ruining Lucille's chances with the prince, can we? No. I shall send you to a boarding school for girls. I know a lady who is headmistress at one. I'm sure she is in need of another servant. You leave tomorrow morning." With that, Helga swept out of the room. After shooting me with another haughty smirk, Lucille followed. I sat down on the couch, cursing my misfortune. The only girls who could afford to stay in boarding schools were the rich noble ones. This was probably going to be a finishing school like the one my mother wrote about in her diary. My days would be filled with the incessant chatter of air-headed idiots like Lucille. It would be like when Lucille's friends came over for dinner, only a thousand times worst. I wouldn't be able to see Derek, Beth, Yvette, Hanna, Togalo, or Hank. What would I do with Beryl?

Sighing, I dragged myself to my room. Hank was waiting outside the window. I let him in and relayed to him today's events.

"So you got yourself sent away." The hawk said dejectedly.

I scowled at him. "It's not like I went out of my way to get myself into trouble. And I _know_ I screwed up. Must you point it out?" I snapped irritably.

"Gosh, Ari. I didn't mean anything bad by it."

I rolled my eyes. "Ugh. I've just had it with Helga and Lucille. I'm glad I'm sent away. At least don't have to deal with them anymore." My tone was nicer this time, which was as close to an apology for my crabbiness as Hank was going to get. He accepted it nevertheless.

"Seems like I'll be moving." He said.

"You're coming with me?"

"Of course. I'm your guardian. I have to come with you, to keep you out of trouble."

"Thank you!" I reached out and hugged Hank. He scowled and preened the feathers I had ruffled.

"What will I do with Beryl?"

"I'll arrange for a pickup to take her back to her own country. It was about time she left anyways. She can't stay here. She doesn't belong in this country. When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"Than I better go contact the wizard now. I'll get you in the morning, Ari." Hank hopped out the window and left.

I watched Hank disappeared into the darkness and then turned back to my room. I dragged the cardboard box with Hank's feathers which I had been collecting out from under by bed, along with another the pack I used to carry Lucille's dress in. Lucille had carelessly left both the dress and the bag in the sitting room and I had retrieved the bag on my way out, thinking it would help with the backing. I carefully took out my mother's wine stained gown and the glass slippers and laid them on my bed. I stood pondering what to do with them. I couldn't carry such finery on the road for fear of being robbed and I might be accused of having stolen them at the school, but I certainly couldn't leave them here in the grasp of Helga and Lucille. Suddenly, I seized my pillow and striped it of its case. I placed the dress and shoes inside the pillowcase and sealed the opening as best I could. Then, I buried it into the box with the feathers. I sealed the box as well. This I would give to Togalo for safe keeping. Next, I opened my cloth bag and stuffed into it all my shifts except for the one I was currently wearing. After that came all my other belongings. I didn't have much. In went a hairbrush, some leather strips for tying my hair, my dirty old apron, a sash, a couple of handkerchiefs, and my most prized possession besides the ball gown and slippers, my belt knife. It was plain-looking, but its blade was keen and was probably more expensive than it looked. Togalo had gotten it for me when I was young, when I showed signs of being a tomboy, he claimed. I tied the mouth of the bag shut and dropped it beside the foot of my bed. I climbed into bed and promptly fell asleep. Those children at the party must have worn me out. Helga would probably be looking for be at dinner, but I didn't care.

The next morning, Helga met me at the front door. A wagon with a man pulled by a tired looking horse was waiting beside her. Without a word, for I had done all my goodbyes, I tossed by bag inside the wagon and climbed on beside it. I expected to be driven off right away, but Helga had some last words.

"Ari, Lucille and I had a talk last night. We decided that Lucille would need a lady-in-waiting when she appeared in court, so you shall be her future lady. Now you shall attend lessons at that school and return in time for the first major ball of the season."

"You know lessons cost money, right?" I replied.

"Of course. That's why you will earn your keep with the chores you will do." Helga smirked coldly and walked inside. The man in the wagon drew his whip across the horse's back and the horse started walking.

The ride was bump and boring. The driver was as taciturn as humanly possible. The only thing he said to me was 'several hours' when I asked him how long the ride would take. I sat in the wagon bed with my back to the driver, staring listlessly at the scenery as we past. Towards midday, when the driver showed no signs of stopping for a rest, I seized my bag and dug inside for a bag of cheese and bread I had hidden, correctly guessing that Helga would not provide me with lunch. I untied the bag and peered inside. Suddenly, a white ball of fur popped out. I bit back a scream as the ball of fur meowed softly.

"What are you doing here?" I hissed softly, glancing back at the driver. He did not seem to notice the noise. I shifted the bag containing Beryl onto my lap, where Beryl would be hidden from the driver.

"I didn't want to be left behind." Beryl complained.

"Hank arranged for a pickup."

"But I don't wanna go home. I wanna stay here." Beryl cried in her whinnest voice.

"Beryl, you can't stay here. You don't belong here."

"But Uncle Hank is here."

"But Hank was sent here. This isn't like back home, Beryl. I'll probably be sharing my room." The driver must have heard something, for he made a noise. I turned my head. The driver looked at me, and then shook his head as if brushing this incident off as a crazy girl talking to herself. I lowered my voice. "I can't speak to you like I did back in my room." Beryl pouted. "And I don't even know if they allow cats at wherever I'm going." I added. Beryl sighed dejectedly. "But it can't do any harm to let you stay a little while longer." Hearing this, Beryl's ears perked up. "But you have to promise to go home soon." I added sternly. "Do we have a deal?" Beryl nodded happily. "Into the bag again." I ordered. Beryl obeyed. I tied the bag loosely and set it carefully down.

At sunset, a large mansion came into view. It seemed very old and fancy. As we drove down the road leading to the mansion entrance, I read on a large sign the words, _Winston Academy_. This was the school my mother attended. I was suddenly eager to enter the academy. The driver pulled up in front of the mansion. He got out and knocked loudly, while I slipped off the wagon and picked up my bag of belongings gently. A moment later, a tall stern woman with graying hair answered the door. She was wearing a deep purple dress with a high collar and tight sleeves down to her wrist. The driver handed the woman a letter. The woman opened the enveloped and read its contents. She scanned me with a pinched look on her face. Then, she swiftly beckoned for me to follow her and swept into the mansion. Cradling the bag in my arms, I followed obediently. The stern woman led me to a fancy wooden door and signaled me to wait. She entered the room and returned a minute later. She held the door open. I ducked inside and heard the door close behind me. I found myself face to face with an even sterner looking woman. She was seated behind a colossal wooden desk in a well furnished room. The woman—I recognized her as headmistress from the name plate on her desk—also had graying hair. She wore it on a bun on top of her head. Her dress, of a brownish black color, consisted of many layers and was more intricate and expensive looking than the other lady's, with the same high collar and long tight sleeves. Lace lay bundled at the hollow of her neck, fastened with an ivory and gold brooch.

"I am headmistress here, Madame Buquey. Your ride was well, I trust?" She spoke, her voice as cold as ice. I nodded. "Do you understand the conditions in which you are to stay?"

"Not really." I answered.

"No? Well I better inform you of them. You will earn your food, room, and board with work. Six hours are to be completed per day. Perhaps you will need to rise or stay up a few extra hours. Or both. You may do your hours in advance if you desire. Report your hours of Madame Matilda. We wear uniform here, Arianna. You will pay for your standard day wear, nightgown, and shoes with extra hours, 20 to be exact. Do you understand?"

"Ok." I said. Madame Buquey looked at me expectantly. I looked at her back, not knowing what I did wrong. "Yes Madame?"

Madame Buquey accepted this. "Matilda!" She called. The first stern woman in the purple dress poked her head in.

"Yes?" She said.

"Take Arianna here to her room. The girls should be finishing dinner soon. She can begin her chores tomorrow." Matilda nodded and led me silently out of the room. She marched me across a beautiful marble entrance hallway, down several winding corridors and up several flights of stairs. Finally, she stopped outside a room. Matilda opened the door and I peered in. The room was longer than it was wide, with a long row of identical beds down one side. Trunks lay at the foot of each bed and a row of corresponding wardrobes opposite each bed, with wicker chairs and tables set randomly. The room was completely covered in various shades of pink and white. The walls were a pure white and a large window at the opposite side of the long room was decorated with white curtains with pink trim and shiny hanging beads. The beds were white, with a pink throw and pink pillows. The trucks and wardrobes were white with pink knobs, as was the floor. All the wicker furniture was, predictably, white with pink cushions. A white nightstand stood beside each bed and on the nightstand rested a pink reading lamp. There was no personal items in view, nothing that suggested that anyone lived here, but somehow, I suspected that all of these beds were occupied.

"The one at the far end is yours and the dressing room is across the hall." Matilda said and left before I could reply. When she disappeared, I entered the room and shut the door. I drifted to the bed that Matilda said was mine. It was the one closest to the window, and also had a dress and a nightgown lay neatly on the bed. A pair of shoes was set on the floor beside it. I opened my bag and let Beryl clamber out. As she investigated the room, I examined my dress. It was pink, long sleeved, and made of some type of shiny material. It was long enough to brush my boot tips and rather puffy. The dress was embroidered with pink embroidery in the shapes of flowers, leaves, and curling vines and contained far too many pink bows. A matching pink sash accompanied it. It seemed just like the kind of hideous dress Lucille would wear. I dropped the dress and examined the nightgown. It was white and lacy and covered with bows, perhaps even more than the dress. It had a high collar and long tight sleeves. I wonder how someone would be able to sleep in this; the bows on the back must be uncomfortable. Disappointed, I inspected the shoes. These, like I anticipated, were just as hideous as the dress and nightgown. They weren't serviceable boots, but black shiny slippers. They had a rounded toe and half an inch heel. They reminded me of ballet slippers, except the material was harder and it had a black strap that went over the top of my foot. However, the thing that repulsed me the most was the repulsive pink bow glued to the top of each shoe. Was it not bad enough that bows littered the dress and nightgown, but they had to invade the shoes as well?

Groaning, I deposited the pink dress and my bag carelessly into the trunk and snatched up the nightgown. I opened the door and peered out. Seeing no one, I tiptoed across the hall on to the door Matilda had said was the dressing room. Inside, I locked the door and turned on the light. Quickly, I slipped out of my dress and into the white nightgown. I tiptoed back to my room. Arriving at my bed, I opened my trunk and tossed this dress in as well. Suddenly, I heard loud shrill voices coming from the hallways. Realizing that the girls must be done with dinner now, I quickly stuffed Beryl under the bed despite her indignant cries, turned off the lights, and dove into bed, turned my face away from the door, and pretending to be asleep. A moment later, I heard the door open and all the lights snapped on again. The girls streamed in talking loudly. Spontaneously, all the voices stopped. They must have spotted me.

"What is _that_?" I heard a girl say. Already I could label her as the Lucille type. Only she could have a voice _that_ shrill.

"I think it's a ghost." Another girl said. Great. Another Greta.

"It's absurd." The first girl said distastefully.

"Come on. Leave her alone." A different voice said. "She's sleeping, as you can see."

"Melissa! How—." The girl with the shrill voice was interrupted by Matilda's sour voice.

"Girls!" Matilda scolded. "Do not waste your time with chit chat. Get changed and go to bed."

"Yes Mistress." A chorus of girls said softy. Matilda swept out of the door and closed the door loudly.

The girls immediately forgot about me in their haste to get changed. I slowly opened one eye. No one noticed me. The first girl, the one that reminded me of Lucille, was blond, tall, and anorexic-looking, with a slightly hooked nose. The stupid girl was blond as well, but shorter and rounder. The nice girl, Melissa, looked _normal_. She didn't exactly have that willowy figure the first girl had, but at least she looked like her parents fed her. And healthy. Melissa saw me observing everyone and winked. I, caught, blushed and turned away, sleep for real this time.

A/N: At long last, the next chapter. It probably wasn't worth the wait, but I tried to update and make it good. I really did. Please forgive me and REVIEW! You can show you forgive me with those! And they'd encourage me to update sooner!

And I know the whole school thing seems like stalling, but it really does add to the plot...


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